


The Misfortune of One Chikage Utsuki

by indiebots



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Minor Character Death, Slight mentions of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25780954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiebots/pseuds/indiebots
Summary: "So what could he do? Confess his love to Itaru? God knows his feelings wouldn’t ever, not in a million years, be reciprocated, and he didn’t want to put the weight of his life on the other man; no, he deserved better than that, he deserved better than Chikage, so he decided he would, quite literally, swallow his feelings and take them… To the grave."~ChikaIta Week 2020 - (late) Day 3: Flowers
Relationships: Chigasaki Itaru/Utsuki Chikage
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40
Collections: ChikaIta Week 2020





	The Misfortune of One Chikage Utsuki

It’s not like he had never felt this type of thing, no, he knew all too well what the haunting sensation he had was, and he hated it with every fiber of his being. There were many, many things that Chikage Utsuki knew, and one of them was _heartbreak._ The feeling of strong, unadulterated love for another person, he had felt the same way back then as well… Back when August was still alive.

It wasn’t as if he had loathed falling in love, he did think of it as a nuisance, but as one that could always be ignored so he wouldn’t have minded as much... Had it stopped there, but no. He always seemed to be chased by tragedy, karma always had a way of getting under his skin and ripping his very heart apart, for not only had he fallen in love with what could be called his ‘best friend’, but he had also fallen victim to the so called “hanahaki.” At first, he thought he had finally lost his mind, after having dirtied his hands with other people’s blood countless times, he was sure he was hallucinating, that the vengeful spirits of the deceased came back to make his life a miserable hellhole, but he was wrong. He was so, so wrong.

He had heard about the thing before during one of their daily missions; the legend that if a person were to fall in love with another, but their feelings weren’t reciprocated, a plant of their beloved’s favorite flowers would start growing in the cavity of their lungs, causing them to cough petals as they bloomed, until their weak human body couldn’t take it anymore, and they finally died. The host would die, that is, unless they confessed what they felt to the other person and were loved back, or, an even more tragic end to an already grim story, the subject of their affection were to pass away themselves.

There was also another solution, though, one that wouldn’t harm anyone: to surgically have the plant be removed from one’s lungs, and to anyone in their right minds, that would seem like the best possible outcome. However, it would erase all previous feelings of love they had felt, leaving only some sort of numbness toward their once adored person. And Chikage, being so desperate to feel _something_ in his current ‘line of work’, plus all the self-loathing he had stored deep within him, just wasn’t able to take that sort of step. If he were to die because of his love, then so be it.

Of course, that had been his plan, the way he had accepted things would be, that was, until his dear August died. That was when it all came crashing down on him: the lack of the azaleas he had grown accustomed to, the sudden freedom he felt when breathing, the lack of blood each time he coughed, and he had coughed as many times as humanly possible, he had coughed and he had cried while doing so. He had refused to believe that _his August_ was dead.

Eventually, he had to move on (kind of) with his life; the organization wasn’t a particularly kind one, so he pushed his grief, like all his other emotions, to the deepest pits of his being. And he had promised himself that he would never go through such a thing again, that as soon as he started to care about another person ever again, he would get away from them as quickly as possible. And, unsurprisingly, for a long time, it really had been easy. Being a spy whose literal occupation was wearing masks only to throw them away once his job was done made closing off his heart very easy, that was, of course, until he met them. Until he met _him._

Meeting the MANKAI Company members had been the best, yet also the single most awful, thing to ever happen to him; he was sure they were all a figment of his imagination, of that one part of his brain that longed for forgiveness, that hoped that one day he could be accepted with all his flaws, the weakest part of himself, the one that loved with all of his wrecked, sinful being. Yet, there they were every time he woke up in the dorm, they all greeted him with a smile on their faces, they were all _genuinely_ happy to see him everyday. And he still couldn’t believe it, he was still afraid that they would all disappear one day, that they would just leave him behind like everyone else… But that hadn’t happened yet. And he was always told that it never would.

However, that hadn’t really been the thing to completely throw his balance off, no, the rightful cause of all the overthinking he had done for the past two hours had all been thanks to one Itaru Chigasaki. That damned man wouldn’t leave his mind, no matter how many activities he threw himself onto, how much paperwork he did, how many showers he took because the mere thought of thinking about his roommate like that felt _dirty_. He couldn’t handle all of that anymore, not again, not ever, so why in the hell did his brain refuse to cooperate and kept remembering how adorable his roommate looked while asleep, with a calm expression on his face and a light blush, why did he keep thinking about his focused face whenever he was playing a video game, why was the urge to kiss him so strong whenever he puffed his cheeks at the teasing Chikage submitted him to?

That was why, when he felt an itch in his throat, which subsequently made him cough, and saw a small gerbera petal, he couldn’t help but laugh at his own misery. No matter what he did, he would always end up suffering at the hands of love, wouldn’t he? This time though, the risk of people finding out about his situation was even higher than when he was just a spy, because, unlike that time, people actually _cared_ about him and his well-being, ridiculous as it sounded.

So what could he do? Confess his love to Itaru? God knows his feelings wouldn’t ever, not in a million years, be reciprocated, and he didn’t want to put the weight of his life on the other man; no, he deserved better than that, he deserved better than _Chikage_ , so he decided he would, quite literally, swallow his feelings and take them… To the grave.

* * *

A month had gone by already, and he could swear he had never felt as sick as he was feeling at that moment. He had always prided himself on his almost perfect physical health (in a way, to make up for his very poor mental one), so the constant shortness of breath he’d felt due to the whole ‘gerberas growing inside his lungs’ thing had affected him harder than he expected. His body had started to hurt a lot more than he anticipated, which left him with no other option but to start avoiding the person who he was suffering for. He thought, ‘maybe if I avoid him enough, he will become disenchanted with him, and his sudden… departure wouldn’t hurt him as much.’

(He knew he was being delusional, he knew exactly just how much Chigasaki appreciated him; under all their banter, under all that teasing, there existed an honest friendship, but he couldn’t afford to dwell on those ideas. No matter how many times he had been shown that his existence was very much needed, he couldn’t make peace with that idea. And so, he needed to prepare the other man for what was to come, even if it only served to fuel his ever-growing self-hatred.)

At least, that had been his original plan, and all things considered, it had gone pretty well. He successfully managed to avoid talking privately with Itaru, making up excuses (‘sorry, Chigasaki, I need to take this call for a moment’, ‘I have paperwork to do right now, so I can’t play KniRoun:GO right now’), and sometimes just outright bolting out of the room as soon as he saw the other man. It had gone on smoothly, until the thorn in his side that was one Hisoka Mikage decided to give his own opinion on the matter. Truth be told, he expected him to call him out on his bullshit, like he always did, but not for the reasons he was doing so.

“Say, Chikage... What’d make you start avoiding Itaru out of nowhere?” he said, yawning and making his way into his room, laying down on his sofa, as rude as always. “I know you like keeping things to yourself, because that’s how annoying you are, but his moping has disrupted my napping lately… So, care to explain yourself?”

He looked back at him with a stoic expression to hide the turmoil his mind was going through at that moment, he coughed as well, to clear any shadow of a tremor his voice might’ve shown. “I don’t know what weird marshmallow you ate this time, but I really don’t get what you mean,” he replied, feigning ignorance. “Now, if you’re done with your nonsense, please leave, I’m bus-”

However, as he was about to finish his sentence, that itch he had gotten used to seemed to come back stronger than ever, which made him kneel down on the floor as he went on a coughing fit, even seeing red splatters of blood on the ground alongside the usual gerberas. He hung his head down in shame, not being able to look at his companion as the ugly feeling of guilt took over him; he didn’t want to confront his recklessness, even less so by the person who’d already seen him at his worst. Nonetheless, life always seemed to find a way to worsen any situation he got in.

And so, Chikage wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and got up. “You better not tell this to _anyone_ , December,” he said, “I don’t need them getting involved in this whole mess.”

“... You’re an idiot, you know that, right?” Hisoka replied, clearly disappointed in his life choices, something that would probably never disappear in their relationship. “What’s your plan? Hurting everyone in Mankai because you can’t bring yourself to have a talk with Itaru?” he continued, and before Chikage was able to counterpoint such a bold claim, he said, “I know who these are for, _unlike you_ I’m not that dense.” 

“You should seriously talk this out, dumbass. _He’s not taking this distance you’ve put up as well as you think he is_ , believe me,” he continued, “so please get your head out of your ass for once.”

Shortly after giving him his piece of mind, rudely so, he left the room, leaving Chikage with nothing but the awful weight of his actions pooling in his stomach. He knew he was acting like an idiot, that he was behaving like a packed circus regarding the entire situation, but he didn’t know what else to do. And so, as he was about to close his laptop, he heard the door open again.

Without bothering to look at the direction from which the sound was coming from, thinking it was just Hisoka again, he said the following: “If you’re here to continue berating me for the Chigasaki thing, just leave.”

Contrary to what he originally thought, the person that had just come into the room wasn’t his long-time friend, but the person he most wanted to avoid at that moment. The person was, of course, none other than Itaru Chigasaki himself. 

“Berating you for… what, exactly, Senpai?” he heard the other man say, and felt his blood run cold. There it was, the gods playing dirty tricks on him once more; maybe karma did exist, because there was no other explanation as to why things would be happening with such convenience. Swallowing the lump of flowers he felt making its way up his throat, he looked at him and tried to suppress a gasp; there he was standing, with his right hand hidden behind his back and his posture even worse than usual. He had probably never seen the other man in such a state before, with his hair disheveled and eye bags bigger than the countless times he’d seen him stay up to rank for his mobile games. He couldn’t help but feel guilty, he really hadn’t expected him to be so deeply affected by the entire ordeal.

“Answer me, Senpai. What is it that you were discussing with Hisoka about _me_?” he prompted in a raspy voice, so unusual for him, all while looking as exhausted as Chikage also felt. His usually soft-looking skin suddenly dry, his lips cracked, his cheeks hollow. He swallowed another lump of flowers, took a deep breath, and answered:

“I’ve… fallen victim to this disease. ‘Hanahaki’, I’m sure you’ve heard of it, it’s quite popular in fictional works. Thing is, these flowers that I’m growing… Well, it’s pretty obvious who they’re for, isn’t it?” he said coldly, not ready to see the relationship he appreciated the most crumble right in front of him. He wasn’t prepared for the look of pure disgust he knew could be found in the other man’s face, and so he looked away from his silhouette. 

One, five, ten seconds had gone by, and still no response from Itaru, which further escalated his fear of having ruined the very best thing that had ever happened to him in a _long_ time; however, he took the courage necessary to look at him straight and the eye, and what he saw left him more shocked than anything else before it.

Itaru was crying, quite intensely so. It was silent, but you could feel he was finally being able to get _something_ out of his chest, it almost looked as if a cross he was bearing had been lifted off of him. And so Chikage opened his mouth again.

“Chigasaki…? Did I miss anything?” he prompted, genuinely confused to the reaction the other man was showcasing. “If you feel grossed out, just say so, I will understand.” He finished saying, closing his trembling hands in fists so as to hide his own vulnerability despite it being useless at the moment.

“Senpai, you really are an idiot…” Itaru said, laughing a bit by the end of the sentence as he wiped his tears with his left hand, and before Chikage was able to respond, he felt a light kiss being pressed to his own right cheek. “You are the dumbest, most idiotic and foolish person I’ve ever met, BTW. Of course the Mighty Chikage Utsuki couldn’t have just talked things out like a normal person… But, I guess I’m at fault too.”

“What… do you mean?” Chikage asked, his brain short-circuiting at the other man’s actions. His heart felt as if he had just run a marathon; ‘no, this can’t be happening, it’s all a lie, he’s kidding, he hates me, why wouldn’t he hate me’ were the most prominent thoughts racing through his mind.

“I mean that… I had fallen victim to that damn disease too. And guess what? _You_ were the person I was growing flowers for; all this fucking time, my feelings were actually mutual,” he said, sighing in the process. “I’m sure you’re thinking of some self-deprecating stuff, because I know you, Senpai. And it’s because I know the real you that I fell in love in the first place.” He finished saying, and slowly raised his right hand, that had been hidden until that point, to show him the proof. And there they were, some dried up lily-of-the-valleys, some that matched Chikage’s own gerberas.

He couldn’t believe it, he was almost in a catatonic state. What did he ever do to deserve the amount of happiness he was feeling? Should a person like him even feel that way in the first place? Did he have the right to do so? So many thoughts continued to make way for themselves in his chaotic brain, but he decided to shut them up for a moment, and do what he had wanted to do for the longest time ever.

He sighed, feeling as tears of his own started streaming down his face to match Itaru’s, and pulled him in for a kiss. He could feel his flowers start to dissolve, until they were nothing but a sweet taste to complement his partner’s. He would think about everything else later, but in that moment, he would allow himself to hold the person he loved the most in the entire world close and tight, like he always wanted to do.

Maybe even a person like him, with a past as dark and hands as dirtied with the blood of others like his, deserved to be happy. Maybe even someone like him deserved to have someone see the good in them, and to love and be loved.

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone, thanks for reading my very first chikaita fic www. i put a lot of effort into it, and though it's not very long, i hope the intention comes across. these two mean a lot to me so i'm very happy that chikaita week is happening! ah, so happy. 
> 
> i have a second part to this in my drafts, but it probably won't be published during what's left of this event.
> 
> all that being said, feel free to follow me on twitter (@13sluvr) and talk to me about these dumbasses all day long.


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